#i'm so so weak for clowns rip me
Photo
EVERYONE LIKES CLOWNS
#ahstories#ahs stories#dollhouse#ahstoriesedit#i'm so so weak for clowns rip me#american horror stories#american horror stories s2#.
118 notes
·
View notes
Note
Xiyao?
oh!! xiyao is the otp to end all otps for me (@verdantrivers tagging you as well since you also asked about them, even tho you already know everything I'm going to write anyway)
ship it 🤌
What made you ship it?
in the novel, it was absolutely the teacups scene. but uhhh this is embarrassing but I came into this fandom backwards, and so my first exposure to xiyao was the show! tl;dr I was looking for a show on netflix to fill the void left in my soul after the depressing end of The Rise of the Phoenixes, and someone somewhere rec'd The Untamed because "it's gay and the gays get a happy ending!!" me, a depressed bisexual, "oh, what a relief, I could use a happy ending for the gays after all that depressing straight people nonsense I just suffered through." (joke's on me, my chosen gays did not get their happy ending, I clowned myself)
anyway, /scuffs foot, it was the box scene. their cute little shuffle over the box. the shy yet lingering eye contact. meng yao's eyes doing the thing that zhu zanjin has them do every time he looks at lan xichen for longer than a second, like he's noticing how beautiful starlight is for the first time, and lan xichen looking like meng yao just awoke something in him that he didn't even realize was there until that moment. meng yao's beautiful face journey when he sees lan xichen and rushes to say goodbye to him.
like... I feel it bears mentioning at this point that I knew so little about this show or the canon source material that I literally thought that xiyao was going to be the main ship with the happy ending just based on this moment alone, and so you can imagine by dismay once I realized how tragically wrong I was. RIP past me.
anyway, while I absolutely prefer jgy's characterization and arc in the novel canon, I will nevertheless die for the way lhk and zzj chose to bring xiyao to life on-screen. they did the reading.
What are your favorite things about the ship?
besides the siren call of a decades' long near-romance that is doomed by the narrative, probably that when given a choice (or rather, when jgy believes that he has a choice), jgy and lxc always choose each other, both when the stakes are low and when they are extremely high. one bad faith and garbage take on their dynamic that I often see trotted out by jgy's harshest critics is that he exploits lxc's affection for him exclusively to cement his position within the lanling jin sect and to further his own ambitions, which seems like such a dull and reductive way to view the nearly two decades they spend together in each other's lives.
I also just don't understand where this interpretation comes from?? is it just from jgy using the pass token to get the song of spirit turmoil from the library pavilion's forbidden section? because yes, that was a violation of lxc's trust, but also like... would there even have been a forbidden section in the library pavilion for him to steal from if jgy hadn't sacrificed so much of his dearly bought social and political capital upon gaining his recognition from jgs to help the gusu lan rebuild the cloud recesses? this is not me trying to diminish that violation of lxc's trust, but just to emphasize that jgy actually had very little to gain, politically speaking, at the time he pressed his father to provide aid to the extremely vulnerable and weak gusu lan, but he did it anyway, and he did it because he knew lxc needed the help.
smaller stakes: given the choice between being in anyone else's company or each other's, they always gravitate towards each other in any space they occupy together, and that does things to me lol.
Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?
with very few exceptions, I don't enjoy lan-furen as a concept 🤷♀️ I didn't even fully understand why the lan-furen AUs didn't work for me until I read commentary specifically by you and @fincalinde and @confusion-and-more (I think) about how deeply jgy's pursuit of his birthright with the lanling jin is integral to his character. because I do remember reading objectively good and well-written lan-furen fic that should have been providing me with emotionally satisfying xiyao catharsis after getting hit by the truck that is the canon ending, and instead left me feeling like I'd eaten too many bites of a pie that was good yesterday but has already started to turn. idk that metaphor is getting away from me.
also, more fics where jgy is the soft dom in the bedroom, please, that's my favourite jgy flavour.
#asks answered#xiyao#mdzs#mdzs meta#lan xichen#jin guangyao#he did crimes?? good for him 😌#flute solo 🎶
62 notes
·
View notes
Note
If you're still doing them, how about top 5 MagiReco OTPs/NOTPs
Ah, it's hard to choose just 5 for the top of my list...! There are a number of ships I really like; I feel like I'm excluding some of my favorite children, haha. These are the ones I think about the most often, though.
5. Urara/Kurara: There's something really sweet about how Urara has seen Kurara at her worst and still loves her unconditionally. ;; On Kurara's end, it's more bittersweet-- she's painfully aware of how much Urara adores her in spite of how nasty and temperamental she can be, and it rips her apart inside because she doesn't feel like she deserves to be loved like that. I will withhold the "kurara loves urara too" essay for now for brevity's sake, but MAN Kurara loves Urara too!! She loves her so much that it's tearing both of them down!!!! RRAAAAGGGHFGDH it's too good......
I find it so cute that Urara refuses to give up on Kurara, even after they had such an ugly breakup. She knows that she messed things up by accidentally being insensitive, but she also knows that Kurara has issues of her own that she needs to sort out. In Urara's Kagome interview, she's like, sure, maybe things are bad right now... but people can change with time, you know? Maybe in a few years, they'll have grown enough emotionally that they'll be ready to make amends and give it another shot. I'm rooting for you, world's most patient clown. o7
Urakura can cover every base from fluff (remember, they used to be best friends!) to angst to hurt/comfort, making it very versatile and engaging to me. Combine that with the trope of "I love you no matter what, and I'll be here for you even on your worst days" (my weakness), and I never stood a chance.
4. Hikaru/Ao: My first Arc 2 ship, and still one of my favorites today! I remember seeing cute fanart for it way back when I first started playing the NA server and being super excited for the game to get to Crimson Resolve so I could learn more about them. :') While NA may have died before then, I am infinitely grateful that fan-translations mean I got to see these two anyway! (thank you hebinomiya and MUT for my life)
To explain a bit about why I like them, hm... They've got a nice dynamic in general! It's on the fluffier side without being bland, I think. Ao is playful in a way that feels a bit distant at first, but slowly opens up and starts to trust Hikaru more (a big milestone for how traumatized Ao is), while Hikaru gets a hit or miss crash course in Making Her Own Decisions. It's also interesting to contrast their individual ways of distancing themselves from their suffering (Ao trying to treat life like a game; Hikaru leaning hard into her role of "the Horse"), especially since they've both criticized the other for... doing almost exactly what they're doing themselves.
The way Hikaru tries to comfort Ao when she's scared or sad is cute, even if she doesn't know how to go about it. While Hikaru is largely numb to having to kill people at this point (wow, that's not depressing at all), she knows Ao isn't, and she gets worried when it seems like Ao is in over her head. Hikaru was the first person to worry about Ao after she accidentally killed Ryou, and when Ao seemed out of sorts in her MSS, Hikaru was the first person to seek her out. It plays nicely with Hikaru's struggle with agency as well-- she wants to help Ao, but she doesn't know where to start because she lacks experience and the ability to think for herself; she's caught between her personal desires (supporting a friend) vs. her duty to Promised Blood's goals; things like that.
As an added bonus, their designs compliment each other very nicely. Blue and orange is a solid combo. :> (And for one minor thing, I love that Ao has a swimsuit line where she's self-conscious about being a little pudgy, and then Hikaru has a swimsuit line where she says she thinks Ao is really cute. Tsuchinoko Real)
3. San/Miyuri: f4 could not have tailored a ship more closely to my interests if they tried. It's a little embarrassing... listen, you can't have san say "when she loses consciousness, she becomes my doll" and not expect me to think there's something going on These two pushed Neo-Magius from "kinda neat" to being my second-favorite faction. They're perfect as individual characters, and even better together; I adore the way they play off of each other. The way they want the best for the other and try to nudge each other towards success, even if that means enabling unhealthy thought patterns or behaviors and inadvertently strangling the other's personal growth, is fantastic.
And, of course, the lighter parts of their dynamic are just as good!! It's readily obvious how much Miyu loves San, but San loves Miyu too; she's just more subdued about showing people she cares for them. I think sometimes people forget how sad San was when Miyu started avoiding her out of guilt-- while it might not have been the same type of instant affection that Miyu felt towards San (at least until she saw Miyu dancing by herself and blushed over how pretty she was), San had very quickly gotten attached to Miyu as her baby, and was devastated to think that she might've lost her so soon.
They're more alike than they seem at first glance, and I think that's part of what makes their bond so strong-- San sees her old self in Miyu, and wants to watch her improve; Miyu sees herself in who San used to be, and admires that someone so timid can grow up to be so outwardly brave and capable. The whole thing is so sweet to me... ;;
... I might also mention that my headcanons for them help boost this up on my list, aha. I picture San as being very tall and broad-shouldered, and Miyu as a tiny little thing who could blow away in a strong breeze, which makes for a cute contrast. :')
2. Juri/Yuna: Oh man, where do I start? Everything about this ship is just perfect to me. I don't care whether they're friends, enemies, lovers, or what as long as they're together; their dynamic is flawless in every way. I'm stoked that they finally got a dual unit! ;_;
I am SO weak for the way Yuna cares about Juri. The gang wars could've been solved or prevented if Yuna had killed Juri before the situation got too bad, but she didn't want to do that. Yuna was so determined to leave Juri alive that she orchestrated that whole big fight in the first half of CR specifically to bring Juri down without killing her. It's not something that Yuna is proud of, but the fact that she manipulated a bunch of other girls (which unfortunately resulted in some casualties) because she loved this one particular loose cannon too much to kill her... man. Devotion.
Yuna is incredibly patient and understanding with Juri in general, which is extra cute to me because almost nobody else is. She knows Juri isn't a bad person, just struggling with mental illness and shitty circumstances, and no matter how Juri feels about herself, Yuna still loves her and wants her around. Not for her strength or holding Ryuugasaki together, but because Yuna cares for her as a friend. It's so... [clenches fist] AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH (´༎ຶོρ༎ຶོ`)
It's readily apparent how much this acceptance means to Juri, too. She used to rely heavily on Yuna for venting her stress since not only could Yuna go toe-to-toe with her in a fight (and willingly does so), she doesn't resent or demonize Juri for being the way she is. Even when Juri was hellbent on defeating Yuna in CR, she's greatly upset when she thinks that she might've actually killed her (or in the bad end where Juri does kill Yuna). For all of the animosity they held towards each other, they need each other; they don't honestly want the other to die. (Not alone, at least-- the scene where Yuna stops Juri from killing herself has an undercurrent of "how dare you try to leave without me", given that Yuna was also suicidal at the time.)
I am, as you can tell from this list, very weak for ride-or-die loyalty (or dubiously healthy attachment; take your pick), and juriyuna delivers that in spades, with all of the dressings and extras I like. Yuna's refined, serious, thoughtful personality and Juri's rowdy, aggressive, playful personality bounce off of each other in ways that are always enjoyable to see, whether it's something heavier like CR or fluffy like the Please, Yuna-san event. Top quality ship.
1. Bat/Ranka: "hmm, what if..." ← me haplessly coming up with an idea while reading CR for the first time 3 years ago, about to inflict an unbreakable curse upon myself
If I had to pick a number-one favorite ship in the series, it would be this. I am trapped in a hell of my own creation... We don't see much of their dynamic outside of CR or Ao's MSS (though Ranka does talk about the Bat elsewhere), and we've hardly gotten any of their relationship from the Bat's point of view, but that just means I can have a field day reading between the lines and piecing together a story from the scraps we do get. Enrichment!!
Ranka's "I need someone strong to follow or I'll die because I can't survive by myself" vs. the Bat's "I need someone prey on or I'll die because I can't survive by myself" is a great parallel that makes for a unique flavor of codependency. Sort of a "marionette and puppeteer" dynamic, I guess? Whatever you call it, it's 100% my brand; I go nuts for this stuff.
On Ranka's end, she knows that this relationship is unhealthy, but she keeps coming back anyway. Some of it is that she sees herself as too weak (physically and mentally) to make it on her own, so she clings to the Bat because being treated badly is better than being dead or alone. Some of it is probably that she sees herself as an awful person, and feels that she "deserves" to be hurt like this as punishment for how spineless she is (a feeling that compounds itself with every horrible thing the Bat makes her do).
It's a form of self-harm, in a way-- but even so, their relationship isn't always bad. The Bat liked Ranka enough to appoint her as her second-in-command, and for what it's worth, she did protect Ranka from the Futatsugi gang wars. She didn't take any issues with Ranka's abrasive, badmouthed personality, either! In fact, the Bat must've liked that about Ranka if she chose to keep her so close, haha. (And this is headcanon territory, but since Monzenbashi's base was an abandoned arcade, I have to figure that they shared an interest in old video games as well.)
In the end, Ranka is left in a thorny position where she hates what she has to go through, but can't bring herself to leave. After all, they have their good moments. The Bat loves her, probably. If she left, she'd be free from the abuse, but she'd lose the sense of safety and familiarity that the Bat gives her. That sort of struggle is super interesting to me-- I really like how this ship explores how loving and hating someone isn't necessarily a cut-and-dry thing.
On the Bat's end, while she does know that what she's doing is wrong, she adamantly believes that she needs to exploit others or she'll be the one to get exploited herself. She's a selfish coward who chews up the weak for personal gain and spits them out when she's through with them, viewing everyone else as either a threat to be disposed of or a tool to be used... and yet, despite all of this, she's shown to genuinely care for Ranka.
I am constantly thinking about the Ao-Ranka fight in CR where the Bat jumped to Ranka's defense, saying that she's going to kill Ao herself if Ranka is going to let herself get hurt like this. The Bat- the girl who gets a sick thrill out of torturing the helpless, who's too paranoid to trust anyone- loves Ranka enough that it made her angry to watch her get hurt. For as cruel and "save myself and fuck the rest" as she is, she has one person she wants to protect.
Something about the way the Bat wants to keep Ranka safe while also treating her like a pawn; hating the thought of losing her, but afraid of letting her get too close... fuckinf!!! Good Shit!!!!! Mix that in with Ranka's conflicting feelings about the Bat and I have a dumpster fire that will keep me warm for years.
I could be delusional (this ship is largely in my head), but it feels like a pretty realistic portrayal of an abusive relationship to me. There are all kinds of things to dig into here, from how it could get worse to how it could get better, and I just... auuuuggghhfhfh MAN im going to fling myself into the sun i love them so MUCH
(bottom 5 under the cut, both for negativity and because this is already super long)
If anyone's OTP is on this list, I apologize-- please know that none of these are a moral judgement or anything! 99% of my NOTPs are just ships I find annoying for one reason or another. It's nothing personal.
5. Rika/Ren: Truly the plain dry cornflakes of the magireco ship world. It's so Generic Yuri Manga that it manages to be frustrating in its lack of substance. I understand that it's one of the most popular ships (if not the most popular ship) in the fandom, but I'm gonna have to pass. :{
4. Ao/Ranka: Do you ever have a ship that bugs you, but you can't put your finger on why? This is one of those for me. Which is weird, because I am very much a multishipper when it comes to Promised Blood! And I adore the way that Ao and Ranka's relationship is written in canon! They have a really rich dynamic; I love watching them make that awkward, gradual shift from enemies to friends, where they clearly want to be closer but also don't quite know how to feel about each other. As a romantic ship, though... Eh. I've tried reading fics and stuff for them, but it's just not my thing.
3. Tsukuyo/Tsukasa/anyone: There isn't a single character who doesn't feel like a third wheel here. Sure, the twins might love her, but not as much as they love each other; she will always sort of be on the outside looking in. Tsukuyo and Tsukasa are so deeply, unshakeably intertwined that I don't even like shipping them monogamously with other characters (a singular exception being that I have a passive appreciation for Kanagi/Tsukasa), so adding a third girl to the mix is out of the question by default.
Yukika is probably the worst offender in terms of third wheel-ness because of her "Akatsuki-senpai" thing, but Amanes/Mifuyu wins the general awkwardness category by virtue of giving me the unfortunate impression of a mistress to a married couple. I tried reading various OT3 fics with the Amanes to see if I'd warm up to the idea, I did, but... it's regular amanecest or bust for me.
2. Kuroda/Asahi: it's not even about the abuse and general assholery on kuroda's end (heavy drama can be interesting with the right framework) it's that the idea of shipping asahi with a dude gives me hives
1. Himena/Hiko: het ship allergy strikes again, im sorry 😔 Sometimes I feel kinda dumb for this one because I know I'd probably like it if Hiko was a girl, but alas. Not only do I have negative interest in M/F, Hiko is the most boring self-insert-looking nerd guy they possibly could've designed. Ungh. (himena is a fun, fascinating character, i like her a lot, but the depths of my distaste mean that whenever a scene comes up where himena talks to/about hiko, i subconsciously overwrite it with "hiko is a girl" or "hiko is imaginary" to make it more palatable to me orz)
Plus the "unpopular boy gets bullied for dating popular girl" plotline feels super contrived to me-- while my experiences are obviously not universal, I usually find that unpopular guys get boosted up the social ladder if they manage to land a date with a popular girl. The whole "forbidden love" trope needs to be done in a very particular way in M/F ships in order for me to not find it stupid, and this one doesn't hit the mark.
... and this is a silly thing to be annoyed by, but it really does grate on me that whenever you ship Himena with a different character, there's an 85% chance that at least one person will come along like "what about hiko?" or "poor hiko" or "ot3 with hiko!" or whatever. Even if you specify that you've written Hiko out of Himena's head in some way or another (got his own body again, never existed in the first place, etc.), someone will make him the focal point regardless. It's happened to me, and it's happened to a few other people I've seen. :'| Frustrating to see an interesting comment on himesasha or w/e get derailed into "but himehiko!!", as if everything Needs to revolve around this one singular boy.
#sorry for taking forever to answer this ;; but here you go!#if i were to be completely honest#i probably would've squeaked in ''kanagi/that one black feather from her intro scene'' into top 5#but that's so deep into canon/NPC territory that it's embarrassing to talk about#not because it's cringey or anything; it's just very personal because i've been cultivating it for almost 4 years now lmao#7 billion little WIP fic drafts/snippets/ideas that i may never finish but have fun playing with regardless#magia record#long post#hc post#asks#there are a lot of ships i dislike but most of them involve characters i don't care about#(or characters i dislike in general so it doesn't matter who they're shipped with; i'd hate it anyway)#so idk if they'd qualify as NOTPs
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
20 Questions for Fic Writers!
TY for tagging me @zeroducks-2 😘 Passing to torch along to @blahwesome, @baesonjason, @niphredil-14, @scaryscarecrows, @mrsd-writes, @igotanidea, @artzysyam, @thejasonandsladeagenda (no pressure ofc!)
How many works do you have on AO3? 11 on SandsOfElsweyr, 2 on my other top secret account 👀
What’s your total A03 word count? 47,475
What fandoms do you write for? I've written fic for Dragon Age and Skyrim, but my only published fics are in the Jason Peter Todd fandom 😉
What are your top five fics by kudos? (Only including my SandsOfElsweyr fics)
✧ The Sus Boy Next Door (ao3) 229 Kudos ✧
After coming back from a terrible blind date your asshole neighbor is the last person you want to see right now. He doesn’t have his signature scowl for you tonight, however. Tonight he seems terrified.
✧ Hollowed Out (ao3) 194 Kudos ✧
When Jason saw that photo of Batman and his new Robin, the thin cord of hope holding him together had snapped and he had broken into a million pieces. No one was coming for him. Not one single person on the planet cared whether he lived or died, or how much he suffered, or how loud he screamed. No one except the Clown. He was Joker’s now, and he would say or do anything to get a reprieve from the torment and the pain, even if it meant letting himself be reduced to something less than human.
✧ Remember Jason Todd? (ao3) 114 Kudos ✧
Joker reminisces to Batman about one of the happiest years of his life: the year he spent breaking Jason Todd.
✧ The Wrong Cell (ao3) 96 Kudos ✧
When Harley comes to fetch Batman’s annoying little sidekick from his cell in Arkham Asylum she finds someone unexpected in his place.
✧ His (ao3) 82 Kudos ✧
Jason has been beaten half to death with a crowbar, shredded by barbed wire, strung up for so long his shoulders ripped from their sockets, shocked, starved, branded… It's only a wooden paddle, it can’t hurt more than any of the Clown’s other toys… right?
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I get behind sometimes but I try to reply to every comment I get. If you take the time to leave me a comment, I'll take the time to give you a reply! Fun fact: I love replying with reaction gifs, hehehe
What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? lol. Almost every fic I write has an angsty ending 😂 I suppose Hollowed Out (ao3) is the angstiest so far.
What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Touch (ao3) or Cocoon (ao3)
Do you get hate on your fic? I'm sure I do but I've thankfully never seen it!
Do you write smut? Yes. Badly 😂 But I'm learning! Practice makes perfect~
Do you write crossovers? Personally not a fan of crossovers 🙃
Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of
Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope
Have you ever co-written a fic? Nope
What‘s your all-time favourite ship? Probably SanSan (ASoIaF). Then there's Shakarian (Mass Effect), Surana x Alistair (Dragon Age), and AK Jay x my OC 💕 Also can't forget AK JokerJay and Thramsay (ASoIaF), muwahaha 😈
What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I don't want to answer this and jinx myself!
What’s your writing strengths? Putting men through the ringer.
What’s your writing weaknesses? Overcoming my perfectionism 😪
Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I have to phone a friend!
First fandom you wrote for? Probably Mario? I've been writing for a looooooooong ass time, heh.
Favourite fic you’ve ever written? Hollowed Out (ao3) ❤️❤️❤️
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
ok im rambling about my thoughts on tadc bc i have many (long post)
ok first of all general character opinions with walk cycle gifs to break up the walls of text (gifs from here):
caine: the silly guy... literally why red recommended this to me was the digital world setting + an ai character and they know me too well because every ai character is my favorite by default. i'm very excited to see what we end up learning about him throughout the series, also i absolutely love that he was inspired by AM from ihnmaims but 'if he was a silly little guy instead of fueled by hate' or whatever the creator said about him. his weird head design is really creative though it does discomfort me a bit sometimes, something about the combination of eyes and teeth;;; still think he's kinda tumblr sexyman coded besides the teeth head but most people are too distracted with objectifying jax so he gets a pass
pomni: she's cool!! it's hard to form a solid view of her so far bc most of what we've seen is her being understandably overwhelmed with and O.O at everything, but she seems like she'll be a pretty interesting protag - i liked them showing her moments of weakness with leaving ragatha behind too. that being said i think she stretched out the 'omg this isn't real what's going on???' freaking out bits way too long but that's just a personal gripe with that sorta stuff in media like this. if i was isekai'd into the digital circus i would simply be so chill about it after only 5 minutes of panic. rip to pomni but i'm different /j oh yeah also a fun character design even though i don't really like clowns she's just very Shaped
jax: motherfucker. jk i actually don't feel that strongly about him i just find him slightly annoying at times. at first i thought 'oh ok he's a loveable asshole yeah he's kinda entertaining so he's cool' and then he just ended up being more asshole than loveable. also thought he was sexyman coded and was unfortunately right this time ^^; apparently he's the creator's fave too?? so hopefully he doesn't get away with too much stuff without consequences, or he's gotta actually get some positive traits yknow. however i do love his design with the big grin and semicircle eyes and etc, very cartoony and fun. if the controversial blorbo poll was still open i would submit him bc it seems like the fandom is split on him. but also kinda tired of him from fandom overexposure
ragatha: she's really nice and i want to be her friend - looking forward to seeing where her character goes in the future though, bc we've only seen her being polite and forgiving and sweet and etc, and i think she should be allowed to kill people /hj. it was cool seeing her get glitched too even if ;-;. i was never into raggady ann stuff like i've heard the creator is but her design is still cute too, even if less surreal than some of the others ^^
bubble: keep forgetting this guy exists, not a huge fan tbh? gets some points for being another ai though. looks like a chain chomp. i do like that they're able to be popped and respawn though, that's a fun quirk. the scene with them cleaning up after pomni is p gross
kinger: i barely thought about this guy during the pilot tbh so was surprised to see the fandom all adoring him. kinda just reminds me of fear from inside out. but actually overexposure of him from tumblr and other people enjoying him kinda made him grow on me a bit (reverse of what has been happening w jax). he's pretty cool to me now. i can't believe fandom already gave him a tragic backstory with that queen chesspiece we see crossed out...
zooble: another character i didn't really think about, though i like their design and detachable body parts and such. i also couldn't really get a good sense of their personality tbh? i think they just need more screentime honestly
gangle: i wanted to like her a lot more than i did when i first saw her bc her design is very fun, with the ribbon-based body and comedy/tragedy masks and etc. but ended up not getting too interested in her as a character. but i think she's in the same category as zooble where she needs more screen time and character development though? bc she still seems like she could be cool if her personality gets explored more
thoughts on the overall pilot:
ngl i have a whole bunch of gripes about it despite also rotating it in my mind. i feel like a lot of the characters are a little 1-dimensional currently, even if i do find those dimensions appealing for the most part, hoping they get more characterization in the actual main season though. also most of the pacing/jokes didn't really land for me or felt a bit forced, though there were some good bits like king's hands following zooble's head, pomni opening doors to surreal scenes like the bathing mannequin, jax getting choked by zooble's hand, the randomly generated 5-letter names, also any of the cartoony imagery gags like the censor bars or cartoon dust cloud of gloinks.
however, overall i enjoyed it still!!! all of the animation has so much charm and character to it, surreal semi-human character designs are always great, it's very colorful and bright and reminiscent of old early 2000s activity center games, etc. it gives me kinda 'welcome home' vibes, with both being bright and cheery exteriors meant to mimic old media style that mask darker stuff under the surface. also the general plot of like. people being trapped in this weird setting and forced to participate in fucked up (?) games by some mysterious mastermind (well we know who the mastermind is but not much about him) while struggling to escape or understand why they've been trapped here... very common plot but always is intriguing to me. also of course [holds digital worlds and ais in my hands] my beloved tropes...
thoughts on the fandom:
i am. concerned. that there seems to be an overlap with the h*zb*n h*t*l fandom;; but also i don't know anything about that show's status besides like. callout posts about the creator and people complaining about the pacing/character designs and etc. so i don't really know if all of the hh fans is bc it's like, also an animated series that appeals to the same audience? or if it's going to be too similar or inspired from it or also have a problematic creator somehow 😔
otherwise it's whatever, maybe a bit on the :I side bc i already saw someone make a y*nd*r* jax imagine post and it scared me hjkdfs. otherwise mostly just usual fandom stuff i think? dunno.
actually nevermind i just got back from twitter and apparently the creator is already feeling :/ about their own fandom and apparently people on tiktok are hcing some fucked up stuff about jax so. can fans be normal for 2 seconds please.
#kcat talks#ok ramble over i'm normal again ^^ <- lying#just f about the association w the fanbase if it continues to be :/
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
I finally understand the beauty that follows an intense breakdown!
Let me explain. When I say 'breakdowns', we all know what those are—well, at least the rough outline of what they feel and look like. Thoughts swarming your mind like starved vultures, ripping away at the seal of defenses you plastered over all those "minor" concerns or frustrations, and that single hint of sensitivity you allowed yourself to experience earlier is all it takes to crumble completely. You know, tears rolling down your face, nose watering and reddening, eyes burning, hands shaking violently, knees pulled to your chest, body curled into a ball on the floor—the whole works. (just as a side note: everyone breaks down differently, and my own description is not the sole example of a breakdown in general.)
I'm no stranger to them. In fact, I need them once in while, and I'm a little thankful when it happens. There have even been moments when I've scoured for triggers, either from songs or past memories, just to intentionally push me to tears. To push myself over the edge and free fall, letting my emotions take control and drain me of all that stress and exhaustion from bottling it up. Granted, I've buried that gratitude more often than not as I grow older, and my post breakdown clarity either ranges from "finally, I feel lighter now" to "goddamn it, I should've just sucked it up". But that's not the point of this post, otherwise we'd both be stuck here for hours to the point of insanity.
...okay, maybe we're already there, but that's beside the point.
The topic in discussion today is that magical post breakdown beauty, which is something I've read and heard too much. Apparently, following an intense sobbing session, several people—solely online in my own experience, I don't have friends outside of the internet—have described that they looked more beautiful when they checked their appearance in the mirror. Now, to be fair, they're all already absolutely stunning prior to the breakdown, and that's what confused me for months. Whenever I had a breakdown, my nose would grow bigger and redder, and my eyebags felt more defined as the tears rolled down while my cheeks puffed up. Basically, I looked like a goddamn clown. So how were these lovely individuals feeling beautiful after crying their hearts out?
Well, I finally answered my own question myself after having a breakdown (quick, act surprised). It was the usual; a swarm of negative thoughts, a moment of weakness I allowed to slip, I curled up on the floor and cried my heart out, blah blah. After I finished, I stood up and walked to the bathroom, but I paused when I saw myself in the mirror.
And that's when I actually saw it. That post breakdown beauty? It's real.
My eyes still glistened with more unshed tears that I simply was too tired to push out, and it looked like a glossy sheen over my eyeballs as I peered at myself closer in the mirror. For the first time, my nose didn't expand and redden to resemble Rudolph's lost twin, and I think I can chalk that up to only having eaten a little throughout the entire day (little rice for breakfast, small sandwich for lunch, skipped dinner). My cheeks were still warm, but they didn't puff up, and it's the latter that I've always despised. My eyelashes, still a little damp from earlier, now looked more defined as the tear droplets held thinner lashes together to make them appear more thicker.
If this effect—the way that the tears held my lashes together and made them appear thicker and more plentiful—is somehow turned into a mascara brand, I'd be the first customer.
Wait, where was I going with this? Oh right: post breakdown beauty. Well, I'm impressed and here to say I've finally experienced it.
Now, is there some sort of self bias at play here? Obviously, and that much is to be expected. After all, beauty is subjective to the eye of the beholder, and we certainly don't share the same eyes. Was it actual beauty I saw reflected back at me in the mirror, or was it actually a reflection of my growing self acceptance of my appearance? I've gotten better at admiring myself and not bashing myself for certain physical traits like height, but I've similarly gotten worse and become more self-critical and focus on even more minute details. Like, for example, there are still certain facial features like my nose that I despise and can't manipulate—at least, not without surgery or makeup, which is why I'm learning the latter.
Perhaps the most demanding question that arose was this: is this beauty genuinely 'newfound', or has it always stared back at me in that same mirror? Was I too cruel to myself whenever I looked at myself, easily pointing out reasons of disgust that served no justice to the mere concept of 'beauty'?
I suppose either way, the post beauty of a breakdown is ultimately subjective.
It really isn't that interesting, yet it captivates my curiosity anyway.
(just in case anyone is concerned: I'm totally okay.)
Remember to eat. Sleep well. Take care. Slay, be gay. 🤍
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
#1 would actually not be too bad until you get to the end, then it's a 50/50 toss-up whether Wapol or Luffy is gonna eat the blunt
#2 is also not bad, but I feel like Orochi would slow it down by going snake mode and letting all 8 of his heads have a puff. Gedatsu's gonna fuck it up by putting the blunt in his ear or trying to smoke the wrong end or something. Perospero might put his weird gross tongue on it
Row 4 has some good some bad. Enel is the main problem, that motherfucker's incapable of being normal about anything. Clown might spike the weed with some crazy shit that turns you into a gorilla. Blackbeard's a right bastard but you could absolutely smoke a fatty with him... until he activates his black hole powers and inhales the whole damn thing at once. Dick.
Group 3 fails right out the gate when Hody refuses to share a blunt with filthy humans, and then Sakazuki tries to execute everyone for drug possession
the reddit poster is right that #6 is pretty bad, and not just from Trebol getting nose cum all over the blunt — having to listen to Stelly for any length of time, high or not, is a war crime. instant deal breaker. and you just know Decken does some dumbass shit like making the blunt fly over to the next person, Spandam obviously fumbles the catch bcuz he's a waste of life, he drops it on Trebol, boom. Snotsplosion and your house burns down.
But the absolute worst is 5. Tashigi will def narc on you and/or lecture you about the health risks. Weevil gotta ask mommy for permission first and probly gets snot on the blunt. Helmeppo coughs for like 10 minutes from one weak hit and then greens out, full on paranoia shit show. And there's no way I'm touching anything Doc Q puts his mouth on. That dude has so much fucked up shit coursing through his veins not to mention he might give me smallpox and turbo-syphilis just for funsies. “Can my horse have a hit?” fuck off, dude. and then you got fuckin Charlos, who's absolutely NOT gonna share a blunt with the peasants. He's either shooting you and keeping the whole thing for himself or pulling out a shitty vape pen and trying to use you as a chair. What you wanna do is leave early and text Marco to meet at your place for bong rips with Shanks, Queen, Bentham, Señor Pink & Rayleigh.
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
I've been here for over 10 years, maybe not actively posting or interacting (I mean, I still have Magnus Bane, which I'll always love, as my icon), but I'm always, always here, from ship to ship. Let me tell you something: clowning is fun, creating scenarios, writing and reading fanfiction, theorizing, and so on, is fucking amazing, but though I know no one never promised us anything when it comes to Buddie, it is so incredibly frustrating to watch things *not* unfolding for them. Those weak-ass love interests coming and going? Eddie and Buck, it's not just wishful thinking, it makes sense, it's just there, but it never happens, and maybe it never will. And it sucks. The last time I felt this frustrated was when I watched Quentin in The Magicians die (RIP Queliot and all my love for them).
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
20 questions for fic writers
tagged by @zyrafowe-sny
tagging @melikochan @mehoymalloy @sterling-jay @wykart @strangefable
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
36!
2. What's your total AO3 word count?
459,168 (holy shit)
3. What fandoms do you write for?
currently horizon video game series, in the past she ra, orphan black, cbs supergirl (but hated it once CW got its hands on it) and others
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Choosing Life, Of Heroes Great and Small (abandoned, don't read), What's Broken Can Be Mended (And What's Lost Can Be Found), If I Let You Catch Me, Will I Break?, and Small Spaces, Familiar Places
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
yes, but sometimes i procrastinate and it takes a while rip. i like the community aspect of fic!
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
A Cold Star Still Burns, aka lis lives (bad verison)
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Choosing Life, which just wrapped up and I'll be posting the epilogue soon!
8. Do you get hate on fics?
no, but i have gotten rude comments before
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
not currently. i don't think i probably will in the future, just not interested, rip!
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
no, but in the past i did write an orphan black/battlestar galactica au. i would probably not write a crossover or au like that in the future though, not really my cup of tea
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
not as far as i know
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
i don't think so
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
yes! though we both lost interest in the show in question and it was never finished :(
14. What's your all-time favourite ship?
i'm not really much of a shipper. of the ships i've written though, buffy/faith is like a forever ship to me. i'm never fixated on it but i'm always down to clown
15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
i don't have any unfinished wips i want to return to atm!
16. What are your writing strengths?
i think i have a good ear for dialogue and i'm good at both plotting and characterization
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
IMAGERY
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
i think i could manage it in spanish but not any other language
19. First fandom you wrote for?
avatar: the last airbender
20. Favourite fic you've ever written?
i think it's got to be Choosing Life, which was a huge accomplishment and immensely personal. i also made some really great friends though that fic and fandom
honorary runners up to A Cold Star Still Burns for delicious concepts and What's Broken Can Be Mended (And What's Lost Can Be Found) for being my first completed multichapter work
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
My reply to every "Fake Mistress" in my inbox and on Tumblr:
It seems like I already get embarrassing questions in my inbox daily from fake ass would-be, wannabe mistresses who start every message with either: "Hello" or "Hello Slut" and THEY ALL END THE EXACT SAME WAY when they ALL use the guise of "BDSM" to demand me to answer the question of: "How much do I desire to serve them?" and it all ends THE SAME EXACT WAY when every one of them attempts to demand money from me in exchange FOR A CONTRACT that isn't even worth wasting the ink, the paper or my time and effort to bother printing it off when WE AREN'T EVEN IN THE SAME STATE!!!!
This right here is all that this sissy is ever going to ever put into your styrofoam cups while you continue to beg for change day in and day out on Tumblr like whores on street corners with your head inside a John's window giving him your going rates and you prey upon the weak with a predatorory mindstate.
I must admit as much as you want to humilate and insult members of the LGBTQ who are just looking for acceptance they don't get from their side of the gate they are drawn to your cute yet sadly pathetic screen names like a moth to a flame hoping you will be the answer and you expose their weaknesses... You are nothing more than the scum of the earth!
I see absolutely no reason why you should even exist on here or on any other platform for that matter and the only one who should be humiliated is YOU and that's because you're nothing more than SPAM upon delivery in my inbox.
Copy and paste style greetings with DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR because you believe that you carved and niche here on Tumblr and you prey upon all the sad little boys who want desperately to be gurls and they will all be ripped off and blackmailed by you and they will be sent running back to the closet by a fake ass mistress profile that is nothing more to me than the dog shit that we all avoid on the lawn because in my eyes and if we see fit then your place will be on the bottom of our boots or heels and we will smear you upon the sidewalk as the rainfall will wash away the unapologetic stain that was you and pull you into the sewer below so you can float with the rest of the shit that gets flushed away.
For those who demand something from me but offer nothing real in return... THIS IS ALL YOU WILL EVER GET FROM ME!!! t
This is a courtesy to you and this is your notice from me to let every single one of you fake motherfuckers know that I'M NOT HERE FOR YOUR SHIT!
Let's get one thing straight... Your game is "humiliation" and you already lost!
I am the only one ironically entertained by your pathetic attempts one-by-one in my inbox to give it that old "college try"
YOU ARE HERE FOR MY AMUSEMENT IT'S NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND!
I AM BOTH HIGHLY AMUSED AND ENTERTAINED BY ALL OF THE CLOWNS WHO WAIT FOR MY REPLY AND I SIMPLY DECLINE TO JOIN YOUR THREE RING CIRCUS AS YOU JUMP THROUGH HOOPS FOR MY ATTENTION.
(JUST DO THE ENTIRE LGBTQ COMMUNITY A HUGE FAVOR AND KEEP HOLDING YOUR BREATH UNTIL YOU TURN BLUE IN THE FACE AS YOU GRASP ONTO HOPE THAT I ACKNOWLEDGE YOU AND JUST PASS OUT OF EXISTENCE!)
I know who I am and I don't have to pretend to be anything other than Roxy Quinn.
Do you know who you are; when you pretend to be someone you're not?
If you're so "Real" then tell me why all of your relationships outside of Tumblr suffer so much.
Quit using "BDSM" in vain as a cash grab and quit claiming to be a Mommy or a Daddy to the LGBTQ community you pathetic fucking leeches.
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
From the original version of my 2022 Humor Valentine entry which I scrapped at the last minute ie the week before the deadline.
It's not noticeable because it's basically still doodles but the parent and child are supposed to be Advance Wars cameos.
Oh man, I don't know if I should clarify this but my original version for this line had Enker saying something else entirely. It's not really funny either so the final version saying is a weak compromise. Somehow I still remembered THAT.
RIP Yahoot...'s role. He's actually one of the most important (intentionally minor) characters in the original story but he had so little available plot/screen time that I ended up editing it to absolutely nothing in this version of the story.
who
(I really wanted Kalinka to have a really cute exercise outfit.)
Name: SPARK MAN
Number: DWN 023
Alias: EL HERMANO SPARKO
I liked Spark Man okay before but working on these comics specifically made me love him, unfortunately.
IMPACT SPOTTED!!! Terry's looking up robots absolutely not allowed entry to Boing-Boing Park and unfortunately, Impact tops that list. Also, Chekov's Clown on the right.
Some cute expressions in this one. Let Terry ste--borrow the damn robots! Chekov's Ninja on the right.
What an oddly well-drawn Lyric.
WATT!
Ann!
I'm the guy who made (making?) this so I know what I feel and how I want it to feel but I'd never really know if it hits or not. From everything I've observed, probably not. Like, yeah, I want to reward the patient and careful reader, I want to trust my audience knows what's up but at the same time, how I can do that if I'm apparently just so fucking bad at it.
0 notes
Note
I swear JC stans must be very ungrateful or feel like they're entitled to other people's helps in the real life to even come up bullshit takes like this. The amount of efforts to twist things in the novel to make JC and his fucking Lotus clan in perilous situations to excuse his unwillingness to pay his debts, because of his "obligations" (which is his reputation). I'm sorry, using the "he had to put his clan first to fuck the life debts he owed WN and WQ, even WWX" makes look weak, unreliable and very ungrateful and because of that, he definitely created his own karma for refusing to paying debts. May be the Wen siblings only helped JC because of WWX but they still did the deeds to save JC's life. People should realize without WN and WQ's helps, JC may not even be alive by the time WWX figured out where he was held or even failed to rescue him. Not to mention, even if WWX managed to rescue JC, but without hideout or medical help, JC would still be injured to death.
And man the LWJ part is another bonkers, but I will let other eviscerate that.
"A favor of drop of water should be repaid with a surging spring"
HAHAHA "The idea that Jiang Cheng doesn't think about what he owes people is very funny to me. He tried to literally die..." 🤡. 🌝
Deciding to try and distract some ppl =/= decided to die. lmfao He decided to die bc he couldn't bear the consequences of his one mildly heroic act. Unlike WWX who took the scar on his chest, took the whipping, was going to give up his hand, gave up his core, faced the Burial Mounds for 3 months etc. These people are clowns. Also where are they getting all these motivations on jc's part. That he was thinking of everyone else. He wanted to keep his position and privilege safe. He's a cultivation clan leader not the ruler of a small kingdom. The ppl around there are too scared to even go to his Clan for help so that's how dedicated he is. He dedicated himself to hunting down any sign of WWX and kidnapping and torturing ppl in the hopes that he could kill him again.
Weighing obligations my ass. What jc "literally" does is say he knows they owe the Wens but it's inconvenient to help them. Like Wen Ning didn't commit full treason to save his pathetic ass. jc is fully capable of helping but he doesn't want to. rip jc, your stans don't get you.
76 notes
·
View notes
Note
30. Pick a favourite clown from the series 🤡
Ok ok for literal clown gotta go with my rainbow girl Geiru Toneido and her titty-suspenders-slapping gif
Like look at this shit! Iconic
I honestly found AA6 so unenjoyable I forgot most of the details from it hahah, and this was easily the least interesting case in the game too, but Geiru's eccentric design and sad motivations were fairly memorable imo. She is one of the few murderers in the entire series that was actually sympathetic in the end.
As for clown in terms of personality, none other than
MR. HERLOCK SHOOOLLLMEEEESSSS
I absolutely love the name 'Herlock Sholmes' too, rip everyone who hates it but I'm not so weak. It's perfect for AA and it gives us the much needed separation from the dreaded BBC show.
I could rant and rave about Herlock for a long time honestly; he's a fantastic char that's full of so much more depth than he lets on, he used to be a dick in the past but mellowed into a big ol' softie over the years, he's an ADHD icon, his design fucks, he's an attention whore, he's unreliable yet also ride or die, he's the dumbest smart person you'll ever meet, his science shenanigans make no sense both in terms of the setting and just logically, the Dance of Deduction was an extremely fun gameplay feature with banging music (it did drag on a bit tho), he fucking livestreamed Barok's trial to the fucking Queen, and he's a single dad!!! I actually hated him at first haha, I thought he was unbearably goofy and I was still mourning Kazuma, but when it started to come out more how much of the goofiness was an act (and the act itself grew on me) I found him super interesting and entertaining, and eventually he became one of my absolute favs amongst a cast full of fucking phenomenal characters. The fucking partners dance where he finally turned off all the silliness? God what an amazing pivotal scene.
I also love the subtle differences in his dynamic with each of the various major chars even if they fall into the same "category" of communication, like how annoying them to hell and back is his go-to for Ryuu, Barok, and Gregson, or how he tries to act more put together but his Herlock-ness still shines through for Iris, Susato, Gina, and Yuujin, but none of these dynamics feel exactly the same, he genuinely cares about all of them in their own ways. His relationship to Iris means so much to me even if I have problems with how it was written (I really resent they ever did the "roommates" angle) and he's a character that at his core collects found family because he's a kind and loyal person, and really who wouldn't fall for that?
Herlock is hands down my favorite Sherlock adaptation ever and I really doubt that'll ever change.
From this AA ask list!
#asks#answered#tgaa#dgs#ace attorney#thanks for the ask pal! *insert larry butz crying while winking thumbs up gif here*#i could keep talking about herlock but im starting to not make sense so ill stop
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
WHERE THERE IS NO TEMPTATION, THERE IS NO GLORY.
⊱ a santino d'antonio / oc short-fic
pt. iii: tra i due litigante terzo gode ( read on ao3 ) ( masterlist )
words: 3.6k
warnings: mentions of animal death (canon-typical), clown on clown violence.
rating: m/t
notes: putting this little project of mine up on the internet for strangers to see was incredibly nerve-wracking, but i have been so lucky to be received so kindly by folks! thank you to everyone who reads, it really means the absolute most to me.
i don't know if i mentioned this before, but you can find translations for the (google-translated) italian at the bottom of each chapter on my ao3. i know it's a hassle, i'm sorry!! just can't find an easy place to put them here without spoiling what's going on in the chap ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ
thank you as always to my lovely beta @starcrier, my lover my life my shawty my wife; this could not be done at all without you. ♡ and to @belorage, who loves euphie enough to send me the cutest message that managed to kick my ass into gear to get this chapter edited!!
Two days after the engagement party, when Santino has finally made up for his delay and lateness, is when he ruins it all again.
Later, Euphemia will think that he can’t help it—he is destined to be a wrecker, a ruiner, even if it’s for himself. It’s not his fault, not really, she’ll say. Ignoring that he is a perfectly autonomous adult means that she can excuse his thoughtlessness and not call it selfishness.
One of Santi’s men tries to tell her that he’s busy as she strides through the museum, heels clipping the floor with a strict, stark cadence. The smell of the doctor’s office is still stuck in her palette. She feels a wad of anxiety, anticipation, coiling deep in the pit of her stomach, a black stone dropped there to torture her with its heaviness. Santino will be happy, she thinks absently, chewing the inside of her cheek as she moves. He’s always wanted this.
The man is keeping pace with her well enough, despite her long legs and the purpose with which she walks to one of the back rooms of the museum.
“Bella,” he says, reaching to stop her, “per favore, he is in a meeting.”
The words put a sour taste in her mouth. Busy, the man is trying to say, too busy for you, for this, right now.
“Trust me, Gianni,” she replies dryly, “he’ll want to make time for this.”
She takes two steps into the room past the other guards, who don’t bother trying to stop her. The room is marked primarily by a high ceiling, which allows all of the paintings to be hung in it in their varying degrees of size. Euphemia recognizes Santino sitting on the bench first, and then another man that he’s talking to. The man looks like he’s just come off of the streets, his hair dark and the scruff that she can see on the side of his face manicured enough to look like he just hasn’t bothered recently.
It takes Euphemia’s brain a few seconds to register the facial features of the man who turns to look at her over his shoulder. He would be nothing, mean nothing, to her if she didn’t see the way his expression flattened, his gaze sweeping over her—calculating. Measuring. Identifying.
He looks dirty, unshowered, covered in soot, and she thinks back to two nights ago when Santino showed up to their engagement party smelling like fire and gunpowder.
Santino stands abruptly. He might be angry, or perhaps worried; it’s hard to tell the difference with him. But she can’t look at him, anyway, her gaze fixed on the stranger who is not much of a stranger at all, who she knows because of the scary stories. The rest of the world may as well be melting down around her, some sick Van Gogh painting, and she can’t look away.
John Wick has dark eyes. Shark’s eyes, she thinks. Black, soulless. Like the glass eyes on a teddy bear. She feels her stomach lurch as fear washes over her in a slick, wet wave, reminding her that she’s already received one bout of stressful news this afternoon.
He watches her. She’s sure he’s sizing her up—that is what John Wick is made to do—but after a second, he glances to Santino, gauging his reaction. If he thinks she's any kind of a threat, he's not letting it show.
“I told you not to let anyone in,” Santi says angrily to Gianni, helpless behind her—because Gianni would have never dared to grab her arm to stop her, would have never thought it acceptable to handle her like street rabble.
“Santi,” Euphie says, feeling very small and very far away and somewhere that her body isn't, “who is that?”
She knows, but she wants to hear him say it.
He steps around the bench, excusing himself from his conversation with Wick and crossing the space between them to guide her out of the room with his hands on her arms. She lets him, not because she isn’t burning with rage but because if Santino doesn’t show her where to go, Euphemia will just stand there, fear driving icy-hot spears through her chest.
He takes her as far as around the corner of the room, maybe to put as much space between her and John Wick as he can afford, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. She starts to shrug his hands off of her, and oh, there it is—the shrieking, panging fear, and fury, boiling inside of her. Venomous, indignant. Her mind is a mess of color and noise and she’s vaguely aware that maybe she should be working hard to keep her voice down, but it no longer matters.
A lot of things shouldn’t have happened that did. What’s one more?
“You brought him here?” She can feel her voice bordering on hysteria. “Are you a fucking idiot, Santi? What part of I don’t want John Wick near my life—”
“Euphie, Euphie, Euphie,” Santi says, trying his sweet-talk; condescending, like he’s speaking to a child. “Lower your voice, tesora, and we’ll talk about it.”
Her hand moves of its own accord, a knee-jerk reaction to Santi sweetly telling her to shut up, and she slaps him. Hard. As hard as she can manage. The second her palm connects with the side of his face, and the needles start stinging in her palm, she thinks that she regrets it: but all she can really think about is the pure fear and rage coursing through her body, pummeling adrenaline through her bloodstream until she feels like she’s going to be sick.
And, a little, too, a warmth blooming in her chest: satisfaction.
Santino's head doesn't turn back to her right away. There is a heartbeat of a moment where only silence reigns, where his fingers reach and touch the place her palm had made contact with, like he can't believe she did it. Maybe he can't, but then he'd be a bigger idiot than Euphemia thought.
He turns to face her again and holds up a hand—perhaps to call for a moment of inaction, or to be prepared for a second blow, she’s not sure and she doesn’t care. Santi begins, his voice a low threat, “Do not do anything else you're going to regret, Euphemia.”
Anything else you’re going to regret, he says, as though she will regret having done this.
“Fuck you,” she snaps, her voice rising in volume further yet. The poison reverberates on the high, smooth glass ceiling, bouncing off of the marble walls until it’s all echoing around them. “He knows what I look like, what—what I sound like, he knows my name, Santi, you—”
She's pushing him, hitting his chest; an impatient and weak battering. She wants both to get him away from her as much as possible and keep him close. Santi catches her wrists with bruising force, trapping her and making her look at him.
“Euphemia, basta—if you had waited,” he bites out, “then—”
“I’m pregnant!” The words leave her in a visceral, furious shout, her heart thundering in her chest, her flight or fight demanding one or the other. She rips her wrists from his grip. It feels like her entire body is vibrating. “You fucking idiot—I was late, I just got back from the doctor, and—and you’re not supposed to have him here anyway! You promised me, Santino D’Antonio, you promised me!”
There is a heartbeat of time, of space, where her fiance stares at her like he doesn’t quite think that she’s real. Red blooms on his cheek where her hand made contact and the dark of his pupils has all but swallowed up the beautiful green of his irises. Finally, something seems to kick the gears back into motion, and he plunges on, catching his footing.
“Euphie,” Santi says, reaching for her again, “Euphie, listen to me. John came to me, I didn’t—”
“I don’t need a fucking history lesson, Santino!” Euphemia spits, brushing his hand away from her arm. Blood is rushing through her head, louder and louder, demanding she raise her own volume to be heard over it. “I told you to leave him alone. You insisted, and I thought that was the end of it—you came late to the party that night because of him, isn’t that right? So why is he here, Santi? Why is John Wick near me and my baby?”
Santino stares at her. She can see the flex of his jaw when his teeth clench, trying to maintain what shred of control he has. He swallows, lifting a finger, to indicate one minute, and it takes all of her self-control not to scream at him that he doesn’t get any more minutes. But there is some pleasure in seeing him a little ruffled; to see the way his eyes dart over her face, trying to keep everything collected neatly in his mind, filed away for premium use. She wants to shake him until he is really rattled.
“It may have taken more persuasion than I anticipated,” Santi says finally, at last.
Euphemia makes a sound something like wrecking, like grief, because she knew this was going to happen and he told her it wouldn’t but here they are anyway. It’s a death knell, ringing in her ribcage, in the cavity of her chest. Dead, dead, dead, we’re all fucking dead now, don’t you see it? You, and me, and now our baby, dead like stones.
He continues quickly, over the sound of her agony, “But that doesn’t matter—cara mia, listen to me, it doesn’t matter because now John will do what I ask him to, and we don’t have to worry about anything else. Euphie, Euphie—come here, we'll talk about this.”
She’s going to be sick. The doctor’s words are still rolling around in her head; avoid stress, make sure you sleep and eat well. Can’t be worrying that baby, can we, Miss Volpe? Make sure your fiance does all the work, hm?
“It does matter. It matters the most, Santi, I—I told you to leave him be, I told you, and you said that you would only ask and that would be it—”
She’s grieving, now, lamenting the loss of her happiness, the hysteria taking a melancholic edge in her voice as the sorrow sweeps over her. Santi keeps reaching for her, to try and ground her back to him, and for the first time since she met him she just can’t stand to feel him touching her, saying her name, trying to sweet-talk her. His hands sweep her shoulders, coming up for his thumb to brush the nape of her neck; instinctively, her shoulders scrunch up to disembark them, arms shoving his off of her.
He says, “Tesora, we can talk about this—”
“You did exactly what I asked you not to,” she manages out, taking a step back from him. “I ask you for two things, Santi. Helping my mother, and not putting yourself at war with John Wick. I do not—you should not have asked him at all!”
“Euphie—”
By the time Santino reaches for her again, she’s turning and walking away, her steps unsteady. She’s sure that she’s sweating, or crying, or maybe both or neither and her body is just kicking into overdrive with gut-wrenching sweeps of grief rocking through her body now that she’s got Baba Yaga fifteen feet from her. From her and her baby.
“Euphie!” Santino’s voice echoes down the main hall of the museum, lighter now. Almost like they never argued at all. “We’ll talk when I get home, si? Mi amore?”
Euphemia is certain she’s never heard a sentence more infuriating in her entire life. It sparks something violent in her. It had been dormant, had stepped aside for her mourning, but it catches fire the second Santino says, we’ll talk when I get home.
Incensed, she turns and slides the engagement ring off of her finger, throwing it as hard as she can at him. Gianni had been trailing her, certainly at Santino's behest, and he tries to stop her—but it's too late, the fury inside of her forcing her to move more quickly than Gianni anticipates.
He catches her around the waist and she considers, briefly, the logistics of wrenching Gianni's arm off of her to go and slap Santino again; instead, she watches the expensive engagement ring bounce off of the front of Santino's jacket and clatter on the floor.
The way he tilts his head, as though expecting her to lob it at his face, and the irritated expression that comes over him is almost as good as actually having hit her original target of that pretty face of his.
Then, it’s pure, sheer, furious indignation that crosses Santi’s face, but she has no time to think about what that means for her.
“Fuck you, Santi,” she bites out venomously. “Fuck. You. Don’t fucking bother coming home.”
“Bella,” Gianni says, “we should get you back.”
Euphemia debates slapping Gianni, too, but it would be unfair; in his defense, he did try to keep her out of the room. She turns and marches her way out, the doors slamming shut behind her and the cold air of New York in the fall washing over her. As Gianni speaks on the phone and calls the driver around, she glances up at the sky; gray and soft as wedding silk, it stretches, endless, cut in pieces by the skyscrapers parsing it out.
A fool, she thinks. Santino has always made a fool out of me, and this is no one’s fault but my own.
━━━━━━━━━━━━
Two hours later, Euphemia hears him enter the loft. He lets the door click shut softly behind him, not slamming it, not storming through. She expected no less; Santi so rarely lets the anger really take hold of him, so rarely lets himself scream or yell or throw something. I’m marrying a fucking sociopath, she thinks, but there’s no heat to the thought; only exhaustion, only a tiredness that goes bone-deep
Even now, she still thinks of it as present tense: she’s marrying a sociopath, as though she didn’t try to hit him in the face with the engagement ring he picked out for her just hours ago, as though in the end, she will still be his. She will.
“Are you calmed down?” Santino asks, in the way that only he could manage—condescending, and soft. Euphemia can’t withhold the vicious scoff that rolls out of her the second he talks.
“I told you not to come home,” she replies tartly, “but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You are apparently as deaf as you are stupid.”
“So no, then.”
“What do you want me to say, Santi?” Euphemia demands, looking at him now. She’s got a suitcase out but there’s nothing in it; she can’t bring herself to pack, to think about going back home to Tuscany where her mother is waiting, barely sober because she can only stay sober for about a month at a time before she falls back to her old habits. “Why don’t you invite our friend John Wick up for dinner, hm? I’m sure he’d like that, after you did whatever you did to make him show up here. Perhaps you took a page out of that idiot Iosef’s book and killed his new dog?”
“He owes me,” Santino insists, glossing over her needling, “and I will get what I am owed.”
She has to resist the urge to roll her eyes. “Do you know how fucking stupid you sound?” she asks, incredulous. “If I die before telling you how incredibly, disgustingly stupid you sound when you say that, then I will—”
Santino kisses her. He does it because he knows that she’s not expecting it, and it has its desired effect; she stills, all of the furious energy like bottled lightning capped again. He kisses her softly, with no rage, but she can feel it woven into the sinew of his posture.
She thinks about slapping him again. But he probably knows that, because he grabs her hands, gripping them in his; the pressure is more relaxing than it is infuriating, which almost drives her mad, but it does what Santino always does. It pulls her apart until all that’s left is the hurt, the fear, welling up inside of her like a tidal wave crashing into the shore.
“He’s doing what I asked,” he murmurs. “And then we’ll be done with John Wick. Mia piccola volpe, look at me.”
“No,” she says, trying to sound angry but it comes out an agonized sound; she’s crying before she can stop herself, tears burning the edges of her eyes and a big, wet gasping breath necessary for her to keep going. “No, I don’t want to look at you anymore, Santi—”
“He’s doing what I ask, and then I promise, you and I will be done with John Wick forever.” His voice is urgent and insistent. “The three of us, tesora. Isn’t that right? You weren’t just saying that to get back at me?”
She nods, numbly. They had been careful, because she’d said she wasn’t ready—but mistakes happened. Pills got forgotten. She wishes that she could have lied about it and kept it secret. Maybe he’d be acting differently now if she wasn’t carrying his child; maybe his face would be something else.
“Euphie,” he whispers, taking her face in his hands. “My perfect, gorgeous Euphie—my greatest piece of art.” He kisses her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. “And the one with the most bite, too, even when you are so ungrateful for the things that I do. My face still hurts.”
“Good,” Euphemia manages out, her voice wobbling. “You deserve it. Idiota.”
“Maybe,” Santi replies. He tucks her against his chest and kisses her hair. “I never thought I would piss you off enough to get you to hit me—and you did cause quite a scene in front of Wick.”
“Stop.” Just the sound of that monster’s name makes her stomach churn. “Stress is bad for the baby.”
He laughs, the first real laugh in what feels like days since he’s decided on this path with John Wick. “Fine, I will not mention him again. But know that after this, it will be done. Permanently. Forever. Si? Tell me you understand, Euphie.”
She’s so tired. She’s so tired down into her core, the kind of tired that doesn’t go away with a nap or a cup of coffee. “Si,” she replies, closing her eyes. “Capisco, Santi.”
Somehow, Santi’s words that things will be done “permanently” with John Wick only manage to make her more uneasy.
She can’t remember what exactly carries her through the rest of the evening. She remembers calling her mother to check on her, to ask if she’s keeping up with her meetings. She can’t bring herself to come clean about the surprise pregnancy; it’s early, anyway, and her mother would only stress her out more.
“Sei la mia stella più preziosa,” her mother says. “Ti amo, Effie.”
“Yes, mama,” Euphie sighs, unable to say the words back. “Buona notte.”
She hits the red end call button on the phone screen, setting it face-down on the countertop and leaning her palms against the marble. God, she knows that she’d fucking kill a man for a drag of a cigarette—but she could never. Not now. Not when she has—
The sound of paper on the countertop stirs her from her half-bent position. Santino slides it across to her, setting a pen down next to her hand. It’s their marriage certificate. He’s already signed it, and while she stares at it numbly, he takes her left hand and puts the engagement ring back on her finger, but this time with the diamond wedding band he’d picked out as well.
“Santi,” she starts, but he tsks his tongue, quieting her. She’s too tired to be offended.
“Sign the certificate, amore,” he says. “Do not fuss. You’re going to stop throwing this ring at me, yes?”
There are a million reasons not to sign it: but the words that came out of her mouth are, “We don’t have the witnesses or the officiant.”
“Do we need a witness or officiant greater than God himself?” Santino replies. He leans against the counter from the other side, watching her. He is polished, pristine. Any remains of her earlier transgression against him are now completely gone, at least the physical marks. She’s sure that he won’t forget very soon that she raised a hand against him. “Sign it, Euphie, and be my wife.”
She stares at the paper. She feels like she’s melting; her life can’t be real anymore, not when John Wick was, just hours ago, feet away from her, and she’s pregnant, and now Santino is asking her to sign their marriage certificate right now.
The implications fill her with dread. What’s the rush? If nothing’s wrong, if they’ll be done with John Wick, what’s the rush?
“You said that you had nothing before me,” Santino says, breaking her out of her eerie, absent-minded disconnect. He brushes the hair from her face. “You will never have nothing again.”
Euphemia signs the certificate in a haze. It doesn’t feel any different after; she doesn’t feel different and neither does Santino in relation to her, and the realization that they had felt married for a few years now sinks down on her.
Santino rounds the counter to her, taking her face and kissing her; her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, the corner of her mouth and eventually just kissing her. His hand smooths over her stomach, admiring, and he brushes their noses together.
“Perfetto e tutto mio,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “Isn’t that right, Euphemia?”
She replies, without thinking, “Si, sono tuo.”
Always, she thinks, always yours, whether I like it or not.
#santino d'antonio/original female character#john wick oc#santino d'antonio/ofc#john wick#spilled ink#c: euphemia volpe#c: santino d'antonio#c: john wick#x: senza tentazioni senza onore#oh yeah baby real good love the SUFFERING#ugh i wish i could convey how much it means to me to have people reading and enjoy this#alas i can only!!!! cry in the tags#thank you everyone <3
22 notes
·
View notes
Note
(1/2) Hey, I'm the anon from the last request. Just have a few follow up q's if you're alright with that (dont have a tumblr to message directly rip)? With Gerri, its strange that she's Shiv's godmother yet both Shiv and Roman dont really know her in the pilot- was there a prior schism? Also did not know about St Andrews, if its not a military school then do you think it adds another layer to the dog kennel story?
(2/2- sorry!) I get what you mean when you say he also coddles Roman but to me its the emotional detachment thats striking. Like in the car post-slapgate, its obvs awks from the slap but they also don't seem to have natural connection or conversation vs Logan and car scenes with the others. There's also the references to him beating Roman (not to say he didn't beat the others but its only Roman mentioned). I think in s3, his new status as fave son might bring up some old wounds for Roman.
(x)
Hey! Ooo, these are really great follow ups, thank you! I hope you don't mind me breaking them into sections!
Is it strange that Shiv and Roman don't really know Gerri well in the pilot?
It is strange, but I also think it's just the result of a few things being shuffled around post-pilot. Pilots are usually shot months if not a whole year before the first season is as the point of them is to sell the network on the show. In that sense, they're effectively proof-of-concept tools and so it's common for things to change. I'm not sure if you're a crossover anon, haha, but I talk a lot about Good Girls as well, and the pilot of that even had a completely different lead actress they had to do re-shoots around for 1.01.
Jesse Armstrong, the Succession showrunner, has said that a few things were shuffled around after the pilot – one of the biggest things for instance is that Roman wears a wedding ring in the pilot and Grace is supposed to be his wife (she's even listed as Grace Roy in 1.01 on IMDB!) and Isla their daughter together. They changed that after the pilot though because they thought it worked better with Grace as just his girlfriend, and Isla as Grace's daughter, not his.
I think Gerri's role in the show really bulked up between the pilot and episode 2, and that's why there's more distance between the Roy kids and Gerri in the first couple of episodes than there is later in the season. Gosh, even the fact that she's not at Logan's 80th birthday party in the pilot feels so weird now with how much they've shifted her role in the family, haha.
Rest of the answers under the cut!
Does St. Andrew's not being a military school when Roman attended add another layer to the dog kennel plot?
Yeah, I think it does, but I also think more than anything, it's reiterating what's already there. That entire subplot is really steeped in how Kendall, Roman and Connor all have different memories of this same game. For Roman it's formative, for Kendall it's just a memory of a childish game, and for Connor, it's seen as through older eyes and, more than anything, an insight into their father, not an insight into Roman and Kendall.
In a lot of ways, Roman stressing that St Andrew's was a military school when it wasn't undermines his own memory of the game, just as Connor telling him it wasn't dogfood it was chocolate cake does, just as Connor telling him he asked to be sent away does. Does that make it any less real for Roman? I don't think so. It's obviously something he's remembered as traumatic, and it resulted in a very real, tangible removal of him from Manhattan, where Kendall and Shiv stayed and went to school. Regardless of whether or not it was military school, it was a boarding school, and I think that feeling of distance and isolation was likely very real.
I'm really curious though about Connor's different stories to Kendall and Roman. He tells Roman that he asked to be sent away, and Kendall that their dad sent Roman because you separate fighting dogs and you send the weak one away so that everyone knows the hierarchy. The interesting thing though to me is that I think Connor was telling the truth in both instances, but the former does make the latter read differently.
If Roman wanted to go, it undermines Connor's memory of Logan, because Logan was not only giving Roman what he wanted, but he was giving Roman greater freedom, greater independence, greater agency at an outdoorsy boarding school that wasn't actually a military school at all. So does that mean that Logan saw Roman as the weak dog, or Kendall? Who he kept close and on a short leash in the comfort of home?
Kendall obviously takes Connor at his word, but I'm not so sure that we're supposed to as an audience. I think the story can be read in a lot of different ways, and more than anything, I think it can be read as Logan understanding that Kendall and Roman were not (and are not) the same, and needed different things as children. How that can be spun though is anyone's guess.
Are Logan and Roman emotionally distant?
That's an interesting point about the emotional distance there. I think there is and there isn't? Logan obviously dotes on Shiv and pendulums between coddling, controlling and bullying Kendall, but I think both of those things are more just indicative of really different dynamics. Roman's clearly got a 'class clown' sort of personality that Logan obviously doesn't appreciate and struggles to deal with, particularly given he's a pretty humourless guy (gosh, I think a lot about the fact that one of the only times we've seen Logan actually laugh was when the kids didn't want to see their mum, haha).
In that sense though, I think Logan doesn't understand Roman. It comes back to what I said in the other post – I actually do think Logan sees Roman's strengths, and the fact that Roman doesn't utilise them is, I think to Logan, unforgivable. Logan had to claw his way out of abject poverty through whatever it was he could get, and while Shiv, Kendall and Connor lack, I think Logan looks at Roman and sees waste.
It's why he doesn't have a stomach for the jokes, or the immaturity, and I think contributes to this failure to connect emotionally because he doesn't understand Roman in the way that he understands Shiv's rebellion and Kendall's foibles.
The aftermath of him hitting Roman is interesting too, because I actually think Logan's not trying to create distance in the aftermath, I think he's trying to re-write history to preserve his sense of self. He offers the untruth to Roman as an opening – a map for them to navigate unstable and uncertain terrain, and Roman takes it and follows his lead because he doesn't know how to navigate it either.
Does that make it right or forgiveable? Absolutely not – Logan hit his son, and trying to make everyone pretend that that never happened is an awful example of gaslighting – but I also find it really indicative of the cycle of abuse. We know that Noah was horrifically abusive to Logan, as seen by the scars on his back, and I actually get the impression that Logan tried not to be abusive to his children, but sometimes was because of his temper and his health.
Like, I think when he struck Iverson in the thanksgiving ep it was the first time he'd ever raised a hand to one of his grandchildren, especially given the reaction of people, and even hitting Roman summoned a pretty huge reaction from people, and seemed not to be something Roman was prepared for. It also I think stems back to that point of Logan not knowing how to handle Roman (or Iverson!) and resorting to violence he very quickly regrets because for a man who runs the news, he very rarely utilises words.
Logan was raised in violence, and I think it's a language he's both fluent in and has tried to reject, but one he falls back on when he can no longer communicate.
It's wrong, and awful, of course, but I think it's really interesting because I think it's deliberately a part of this broader theme with the Roy's about how fractured their communication with one another is. They don't know how to connect or talk to each other, and so frequently that breaks down into violence, whether to each other or themselves or to the collateral damage - the NRPIs.
I totally agree though that I think some Thoughts around all of this is likely to resurface for Roman in season 3, especially as Logan no doubt starts to lean on him as the new heir.
#these were v meaty questions to answer haha#i've been thinking sooo much about the communication on this show it's f.a.s.c.i.n.a.t.i.n.g.#roman roy#logan roy#logan + roman#gerri kellman#kendall roy#connor roy#shiv roy#hbo succession#succession 1.08#succession 2.06#welcome to my ama
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
About That Night... (Hisomachi Fanfic)
Note: Another translation, though my English is not that great ^^’. It’s 3532 words NO SMUT! I hope you’ll enjoy it.
Pairing: Hisoka/Machi
Summary: Hisoka realized that he was still analyzing her for a reason other than trying to investigate the possible sources of her drunkenness. He was mesmerized by the way emotions were running free in her face, something he had never seen before.
Warning: Drunk!Machi, Jealous!Hisoka, Alcohol, Mentions of Drugs, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Getting Sick, Passing Out, Hangover, Mild Language.
[Link to AO3 in English]
[Link to AO3 in Brazilian Portuguese]
Her body moved insanely under the colorful lights of the room to the sound of a repetitive and irritating electronic beat. Although she was dressed much more discreetly than the other girls in the club, wearing simple jeans and a black tank top, she drew attention and caused a small audience to gather around her. Dancing with a big, strong man covered in tattoos and looking like a local crime boss, she moved boldly and sensually, with a loose laugh that occasionally lit up her face.
"Is this just alcohol effect or did she use something else?" Hisoka questioned the man standing next to him, without taking his eyes off Machi on the dance floor.
The tattooed man's hand slid down her small body and slipped under the black tank top, pressing her waist against him while his mouth whispered something in her ear that made her laugh. Hisoka's fists clenched hard.
Illumi shrugged before answering the question in a monotone voice:
"I don't know, she was already like this when I arrived, so I called you. She's dancing with my target and it doesn't look like she's going to leave him anytime soon. So I called you. I figured you wouldn't want it to be me taking her out of there."
Hisoka moved his eyes to face the ever-so-cold colleague. He was right. If he used his methods against Machi, even if it was just to get her out of the way, he would have to make a little reckoning with him. But the assassin was smart. Illumi decided to turn the situation around and, by calling Hisoka, he won himself a favor to collect later.
When the magician looked back at the pink-haired woman, he saw the tattoed man leading her towards a door in a reserved corner of the nightclub.
"Is that what I think it is?"
Illumi observed the scenario calmly and then turned away, unconcerned.
"Just remember that no matter what he does to your girl. He is my target and I need him alive. I will wait outside."
Hisoka responded with an annoyed snort before walking in the opposite direction of his friend. The bloodlust that exuded from the magician made people open the way naturally, looking suspiciously at the strange man who carried a macabre look on his face.
He unceremoniously kicked down the door to the private room, much to the surprise of some people who ran away, but not Machi. She has been waiting for him, even though she was pressed against the wall by the other man's body. She could be intoxicated, but her perception would never fail to notice Hisoka's bloodlust.
Hisoka leaned against the damaged door frame, crossing his arms casually as he faced the scene in the room by the half-light.
"Oh, am I interrupting something?" He asked wryly.
The tattooed man immediately released Machi and faced him without fear.
"What's up, clown? This one is mine now, if you want the leftover you'll have to wait outside."
Hisoka laughed shortly. The man had given the worst answer he could when he was so obviously in a risky position. He was nothing between the two nen users — even though one of them was intoxicated — and the only difficulty the magician faced was being forced to use only his fists to bring down the thug. He didn't like having to control himself that way, not when he wanted to end the existence of someone so weak and unwary, but he would have to leave that to Illumi.
Machi only seemed to understand the situation completely when the man was already lying on the floor unconscious, and Hisoka was heading to her with an enigmatic smile.
"You could have chosen someone stronger, you know? This is almost an insult..."
"What are you doing here? After everything you’ve done, you decided to follow me?"
Even though the place was dark, Hisoka could see her cheeks flushed. Her eyes shone with tears and her lips swollen, red, and moist; probably as a result of the kisses she shared with that useless guy. He took a long time to analyze it, for a moment believing that it was because he had to determine if she was under the influence of a drug other than alcohol.
His hands grabbed her face, and the only reaction she had was to hold his arms as if she was going to try to stop him, but she didn’t actually apply enough force to it.
"I'm too busy to follow you, ok? But when a little bird tells me that you're out there screwing up, I have to act, don't I?"
Machi laughed sadly, her chest shaking almost quietly between them, and Hisoka realized that he was still analyzing her for a reason other than trying to investigate the possible sources of her drunkenness. He was mesmerized by the way emotions were running free in her face, something he had never seen before.
"You think I'm weak, Hisoka..." she murmured under her breath, and then in a burst, she pulled his hands away from her face and pushed him away. "Do you think I need you to defend me from this ?" She pointed to the dead weight on the floor and then laughed sadly again.
Actually, he was defending her from Illumi, who wouldn't be so patient with her drama, but Hisoka resigned himself to smile in response, making her snort.
"I hate you!"
There was a very sincere feeling in those words, which came out of her mouth as if they were ripping her up. This made Hisoka lean his head in curiosity. However, Machi simply looked at him from head to toes in disbelief before turning away and stumbling out of that room, pushing one or the other person off her way and randomly stealing a drinking glass from one of them as she headed to the exit.
Hisoka sighed, grabbing the unconscious man by the hair and dragging him along while he went behind the woman. He caught up with Machi near the door, where even the security guards had already moved away. Without saying a word, he wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her off the floor, carrying her out despite her protests.
"This is yours," Hisoka declared as he threw the unconscious body at Illumi’s feet.
The body that writhed and struggled, trying weakly to attack Hisoka without ceasing, was his.
"Do you want some help with her?" Illumi offered, watching the woman's wildness with some curiosity.
"No, she has the right to protest. When she gets tired, she'll see that this is in her best interest."
"Don't talk about me like I'm not here, you wretch! Fight me like a man! I'm going to kill you with my bare hands!"
Between punches and kicks, Hisoka just waved a greeting to Illumi and went on his way.
[...]
When he crossed the threshold of his hotel room, Machi was less savage in his arms. In fact, at some point along the way, she had given up attacking him and started just pouring out words about him being a traitor, about Chrollo, and even something about Pakunoda's death. Some of her words actually made sense, but the state she was still in, which seemed to get worse by the second, made any response from him useless.
Therefore, in the face of silence, Machi finally burst into tears before reaching their destination, and Hisoka thought it was best to cradle her properly in his arms so that when they crossed the door she was being carried like a bride, but a tearful one against his chest.
When he tried to accommodate her on the couch, she clung more tightly to his shoulders, as a clear sign that she didn't want to part at that moment.
"Oh? I thought you hated me," he declared with a playful laugh.
"Why do you have to be like this?"
Her voice was so heartfelt that he couldn't help but sigh before settling on the couch with her in his arms. Machi wouldn't remember any of that the next day, which is why he stopped to think for a few seconds about what she just said. He knew that she was not referring to his jokes, but to the fact that he had lied for years and, in the end, revealed a goal that clashed with her own completely. If it weren't for that, maybe she wouldn't have to hate him that much.
She finally looked up and, not without effort, focused her reddened eyes on his. Hisoka looked at her expression legitimately surprised. He could expect hatred and tears on her part, but the way she looked at him now was... sweet. For some reason, he was sure that if he kissed her now, despite anything that preceded this moment, what he would taste on her lips would be something so deep and meaningful that, yes, it scared him.
That's why he didn't kiss her, allowing her to break the silence:
"You're spinning..." Machi murmured, and then laughed in a silly way, breaking the magic as well. "You're spinning and you're not going to tell me anything, are you? You're not even here, I'm imagining you," she put her face back on his shoulder. "At least you smell good…"
"Machi, what did you use?" Hisoka knew he probably wouldn't get a coherent answer, but that doubt had haunted him since the moment he saw her that night. It was hard to believe that only alcohol would do that to a woman as strong as her. There had to be some other chemistry influencing her altered state.
"What did I use?" She asked, confused, and then looked up to him again. "Ah… you wanna know if I did something," she approached his ear and whispered: "Maybe…"
Suddenly she let go of his shoulders and stood up, staggering a little and cleaning the tracks of the tears on her face with the back of her hands. She walked a few steps erratically and looked around in amazement before looking at him again.
"Do you pay to sleep here?" Machi asked in surprise and laughed right away as if it were really hilarious. "You pay ! You're such a fancy-pants."
Hisoka just settled down more comfortably on the couch, watching the scene. On several occasions, he wished to see her acting more spontaneously, freer, but this situation was just sad. He didn’t even want to take advantage of it or tease her about it — at least not until the next day.
He watched Machi shrink into herself again, leaning against the wall and letting the weight of her body drag her to the floor. She crossed her arms very specifically over her stomach, and he knew it was a sign that something rather unpleasant was about to happen.
"You’re feeling sick," he declared, standing up to meet her.
"I'm fine, I'm fine…" Machi flinched a little more, however. "I just miss them..."
Ignoring the way she was closing herself off, Hisoka lifted her from the floor by the shoulders, as if she were a small child. He looked at Machi’s eyes seriously, while pinning her against the wall.
"I know you miss them, but acting like this is stupid. I can't believe you're the same Machi I know."
"Pakunoda was the first person who cared about me in this world," she declared and then swallowed hard before continuing: "she was my family and now she’s dead. Chrollo is my family and now he's far away, unable to use his nen, and I know you had a part in it. The chain guy..." Machi closed her eyes briefly as if to take his name from memory, "Kurapika, you sold our secrets to Kurapika because you wanted to, didn't you? He didn't do to you what he did to Paku, you don't have a fucking chain in your heart. You don't even have a fucking heart! You are a..." eyelids closed again, this time, however, she couldn't remember the word. A single tear streamed down her left eye. "Damn it…"
"You talk as if you have a heart," Hisoka interrupted her coldly, which made her look at him with a sharp look, a faint bloodlust pulsing from her intoxicated body. "You don't feel anything for anyone but for a few of your friends. You're not much better than me."
Machi struggled in his hands for a fraction of a second, resigning herself to kill him only with her intentions when she was unable to leave. She looked a little more like who she really was now.
"You have no idea, you idiot."
Those words were followed by a few seconds of silence in which the blue of her eyes became indecipherable. That was when he remembered who she was and why he cared so much. Machi was the lady of the labyrinth, and he had never managed to get out of her tortuous paths because, very wisely, she had never given him her threads, leaving him lost forever in her maze.
"When I fight Chrollo, who do you want to survive?" He didn’t know where this question came from when it left his mouth, but the reaction it had caused in the woman justified it.
Machi blinked a few times, as if trying to calculate the seriousness of what he had asked, and then closed her eyes with a certain solemnity.
"I don't want you to fight Danchou. I don't want either of you dead."
Perhaps the answer was more than enough, but she had also progressively got closer to him, so much so that her lips touched his lightly at first, completing the touch quickly in a kiss. Without so much lightness, he finally advanced against her mouth, pressing her against the wall now with the weight of his own body.
Machi moaned at his advance, embracing him with arms and legs irresistibly, making him also express the delight that took his body and his aura when, suddenly, she stepped away from him, with such assertiveness and urgency that he couldn't stop it.
And he was thankful for that when he saw her turn and lean her body, finally fulfilling the omen he had moments ago, throwing up on the floor of the hotel room.
Hisoka gave a disappointed snort, but the way her back curved with each spasm of her stomach made him quickly accept that this night would really be unique in his life.
The night he would spend taking care of someone's booze.
[...]
Machi opened her eyes, but the ambient light hurt like a razor and she hid her face in the pillow by reflex. Both her head and stomach were aching with an intensity that made any thought difficult, but when she smelled Hisoka's scent on the pillowcase, she knew something was very wrong. She fought the pain and opened her eyes at once, sitting on the bed and trying to identify where she was. A messy double bed, a hotel room lit with curtains open. Then she found herself wearing only a stretched, cropped T-shirt with playing card suits printed and panties that she at least recognized as her own.
Her nightmare was completed when she heard the magician's happy voice humming at the bedroom door.
"Good morning sunshine!"
There he was, holding a breakfast tray and wearing nothing but one of his ridiculous pants.
Machi wanted to disappear, but the best she could do was cover herself with the bedsheets.
"Don't worry, I saw all this and much more last night," Hisoka stated at her gesture as he left the tray on the nightstand and sat beside her on the bed.
She wanted to emanate bloodlust to let him know it wasn't funny, but the pain in her body prevented her, so she just squinted, watching him pour coffee in a cup and hold it out to her.
"Take this, it will make you feel better."
Machi held the cup suspiciously, without bringing it to her mouth, however. The smell of the drink, which at another time would be inviting, made her stomach turn.
"What's going on? What did you do to me?"
"Now, now, don't you remember anything?" He lay on his stomach beside her, looking at her in that paradoxically, uncomfortable and inviting way.
Machi vaguely remembered some things, but none of them made sense. So she let Hisoka continue:
"I saw you at a party yesterday by chance, you were already… happy… so don't ask me anything before that. You were dancing with a man who is dead now. I got him out of the way because he wasn't treating you like you deserve. So we danced, I made you laugh a few times, I brought you here, we made many, delicious things on the couch, and then against the wall, but unfortunately, you got sick and, by the way, that's why I pay to stay here, they clean up this kind of a mess," the smile broke with malice on his lips, while she tried to assimilate everything he said. "Now you, I was the one who cleaned you up. We took a hot shower together and you fell asleep in my arms soon after."
The sharp pain in her head seemed to create a wall in her own memories and in her ability to distinguish, in his words, what were lies and what were truths. Machi knew he was lying; it was too perfect a situation for him. Too easy. But the way she found herself left her without arguments.
"Well, I don't feel like we did anything much last night," she tried to fish, her voice cold, but he just laughed briefly.
"I was gentle with you this time. Believe it or not, I care about you."
"Liar," Machi accused him coldly, and then abandoned the cup on the nightstand beside her, making an effort to get out of bed, despite the pain.
It was incredible how she, always so resistant, was now suffering just because of a headache.
Machi looked for her clothes in the room, finding them folded on a chair, and began to dress while her other headache who was lying on the bed brought to him the cup she had abandoned — using nen, most likely — sipping and mumbling something about how she really should have drunk the coffee to feel better. Her eyes looked at Hisoka briefly. From her position, she had a wide view of his back, and the absence of the spider tattoo there, which was no longer needed because he was no longer keeping cover, seemed to make her a little dizzy.
How had she not realized before that his tattoo was nothing more than his Texture Surprise? How had her intuition not warned her that he was lying all the time? And why was the real Hisoka — well, at least, the Hisoka who no longer had to pretend he belonged with the Troupe — bothering to bring her coffee in bed?
She shook her head, with the excuse of trying to fix her hair, when in fact Machi was trying to put away those pathetic thoughts, even if the gesture caused her more pain. As soon as she buttoned up her jeans she headed to the bedroom door, stopping in her tracks, however, by his words, or by the unconscious desire to hear them.
"You should stay, you're not completely recovered and it's cold outside."
Hisoka sat on the bed but just looked at her with that serenity of someone who knows what they want, and knows that the object of their desire wants them in return. But it wouldn't happen today, and possibly, on any other day after he revealed his betrayal, Machi tried to conclude.
"I know how to take care of myself," she replied, determined to continue on her way.
"At least get a coat before you leave..."
"Stop pretending that you worry, you know you don't have to fake it anymore!" Machi declared, like an outburst, and finally left the room, slamming the door behind her.
Alone, Hisoka deposited the cup on the tray and lay down on the bed, taking a deep breath when feeling its comfort. He had missed it after spending the night on the couch.
He had obviously intertwined lies and truths in the story he told her. After Machi felt sick, he had actually called the room service to clean up the mess while he undressed and bathed her in the bathroom; she was so lethargic that she didn't even protest. Nor had she protested when he dressed her in his t-shirt and left her sleeping alone in his bed. Just that, and nothing more than that.
Still, he knew that last night had been very interesting and revealing in many ways, and he was satisfied with that.
He looked to the side and found a pink strand of hair on the white pillow. He took it between his fingers, bringing it to him as if it were a beautiful and precious memento.
"You have no idea, do you?" He murmured to that tiny part of her she had left behind. "You have absolutely no idea..."
#hisomachi#my fic#this one is old but I love it so much#maybe I'll try to translate more later#hisoka#machi#myarawrites#machi komacine#machi komachine#hisoka morrow#machi hxh#hisoka hxh
29 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
tcann13
thetylercann
sexydemonboy-blog
Cool/hot art
tacomapologist
Tacomapologist
moshroom
☆
landonlifeblog
Untitled